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“It’s Mom’s birthday, Kaylee. You know I need to make this big for her.”
“Or you’re worried your sister is going to try to steal the spotlight away from you?”
A dark look clouds her face. She bites her lips and looks away. “Stop that.”
"You've been on edge ever since you found out she's coming home."
Her face pales. "Heck, is it that obvious?"
I don’t say anything. Instead, I lean across the coffee table to pick up my glass of water.
Trisha rakes back her hair with her fingers and releases a long sigh. “You think I’m trying too hard?”
You always try too hard.
I take another sip of water and shrug. “That’s not for me to answer.”
“Oh, please. You’re wearing that look that confirms what I’m saying.”
I sip my water, observing her.
Swallowing, Trisha looks away. “You know, I feel like I’m being neurotic. About Ella. I mean, we haven’t spoken in a long time. She didn't even tell me she's coming home. I got to find that out from a third-party. How annoying is that? And, while my mother’s birthday feels like the perfect reunion avenue, I can’t help but feel jealous. Plus, there's this voice in my head that keeps telling me to boycott this whole thing."
I stare at her, surprised. Who's this Trisha and where's this self-loathing coming from?
“You wanna boycott your mother's party? Because you're scared the attention is going to fall on your little sister?”
“I'm not scared. It sounds so off when you put it like that." She taps her pen against the pad, searching my face with her big brown eyes. "But, she’s a model. Everyone’s gonna be looking at her," she lowers her gaze and mutters, “and not me.”
“I will.”
She rolls her eyes and says dryly, “You’re my best friend. You’re expected to.”
I chuckle, then pause when I see her looking in the distance again, a glum look on her tired face. I sigh inwardly. It's not too hard to guess what's running through her mind. As the first child growing up with an absent father, Trisha has always been forced to lead her three siblings, as well as her mother. She does it too often and too hard. She's the type to overstretch her limits for people, doing everything to make sure they are alright. And the saddest thing is, she rarely gets appreciated for all that effort.
"Hey." I reach for her hands and stroke her knuckles lightly. "Are you overthinking again?"
When she doesn't respond, I know that's my answer.
I exhale softly and continues, “Ella will be happy to see you.”
"What makes you so sure?"
"I am, trust me. I mean, think about it, it's been almost three years.”
A bitter smile curves Trisha's lips and she scoffs. “Yeah, three years conveniently estranging herself from the family.”I shake my head. “That wasn’t her fault and you know it.”
“Oh, my God," she huffs and withdraws her hand from my grasp, frustration lining her temples. “Stop defending her.”
“I'm not. I'm just trying to be rational, as you should. You know what fame can do to a person, Trish. It–”
“She’s an adult, Kaylee! She knows what she did. Does she feel guilty, I don’t know. But what I do know is you don’t abandon family when they need you. It’s going to be a bit hard for me to come around that and you might not understand … and that’s okay.”
I draw my head back in surprise. “Excuse me? You think I don’t understand what it means to be abandoned? Really?”
The pain in my voice shuts her up. Remorse is etched on her face. She moves closer to take up my hands in hers. “Look, Logan was–”
Swiftly, I shoot to my feet, inhaling sharply. Oh, jeez, not him again. I bury my face into my palm and groan. “For God’s sake, Trish, don't do that. This isn’t about Logan.”
